Everyone But Me
by Coshie
Summary: Conrad is at Worth's again for blood.  What he doesn't expect is Worth offering up his own.  Rated for ConWorth action, language, and blood.


A/N: Why everyone liked "Undress My Mind" so much, I will never know. XD I mean, thank you, everyone, sincerely for all the reviews, favorites, everything. But I just didn't see it as my best writing. =P

So! Here's hoping I can impress you further. XD

This, however, is ConWorth, which just happens to be my OTP. So you will see a lot more of them. XD

**e v e r y o n e b u t m e**

Even before he opened the door, he could smell it: the sharp sting in his nose of the metallic crimson liquid, the smoky undertone, even a hint of alcohol and some chemical he couldn't name. Conrad had to pause, as he did every time, before opening that door. The heartbeat he could hear, steady and normal, as it pounded through his ears, through his brain. Why had it become so very hard to enter that door? To see that man?

Conrad swallowed hard, squared his shoulders, and opened the door.

Worth didn't even acknowledge him as he entered. The doctor – "doctor", Conrad mentally corrected the statement – was behind his desk, reading what was sure to be some form of smut. The smell of his blood and sound of his heartbeat swirled around the vampire, but Conrad kept his composure.

"Come back tomorrow," Worth said finally, in lieu of an actual greeting. "Haven't got anything for ya."

"It's been nearly two weeks," Conrad snapped. "I'm starving."

"Then get something fresh," Worth snapped right back, barely looking up from his book. "Just 'cause yer a pussy doesn't make it any easier for me to get a hold of blood, a'ight? People need that shit."

"Like you're actually worried about that? Like you have a conscience suddenly?" Conrad felt he knew why Worth was doing this: to make him sweat. To make him bite someone. But he couldn't. Killing just wasn't in his nature, no matter what he was.

"Bite me," Worth muttered under his breath, smothering his cigarette on the desk.

The retort took a minute to register for them both. When it did, Worth finally looked up at Conrad, smirking. "Oh wait. I forgot. Y' haven't got the balls."

In three strides, Conrad was in front of the desk, slamming his palms down on the papers scattered about. "Look, you-" But something stopped him. From this close, he could smell the slightly burnt wood of the desk, the lingering tobacco smoke, but most of all: blood. Fresh blood. Not the stuff pumping through the man's veins.

Without realizing what he was doing, Conrad leaned forward, inhaling the otherwise putrid air until he identified the location of the wound: Worth's upper arm. "What're yeh doin'?" Worth demanded, bringing Conrad back to reality.

"You're bleeding, idiot," Conrad said, annoyed, but not enough to sound it. His eyes were focused on where he knew the cut was. It couldn't have been more than an hour old. Without thinking, he reached forward to Worth's left arm.

The man jerked away, however. Conrad focused on his face, only to realize that he was not disgusted or perturbed, but rather amused. Conrad narrowed his eyes, and reached again for the arm, more to see what Worth would do. As expected, Worth moved away.

"What are you doing?" Conrad demanded.

"Ya think it's that easy to get fresh blood?" Worth teased, setting his book aside. "Nah, ya gotta work for it."

"I'm not _trying_ to get fresh blood!" Conrad insisted, taking a step back. He knew, and Worth knew that he was lying.

"Then what. Are. You. Doing?" Worth said slowly, leaning forward over the desk with that self-satisfied smirk.

"Nothing," Conrad said after a minute, turning on his heel. "Tomorrow, then." He stopped his exit, though, when he heard the rustle of material. He stood, back to the other, until the scent of blood wafted over to him.

He turned hesitantly, only to see Worth standing there, jacket off, blood dripping down his arm from a two-inch slice near his shoulder. And, of course, there was still that teasing smirk.

"What- " Conrad stopped himself from speaking when his voice cracked on the first word. Fucking _weak_. He drifted forward a step or two, mesmerized by the trail of crimson on pale flesh. Worth's hand intercepted the blood, wiping it away. Conrad looked up, only to see Worth beckoning him forward with a red-stained hand.

He didn't know quite how he got over there so quickly, but next thing he knew was the sweet taste of blood. It was familiar, bringing him back to his first conscious taste of the chemical-tinted, smoky, metallic liquid. He was so absorbed in his first taste of fresh blood in months that it took a minute to realize that Worth was saying something.

He pulled away from the fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "What?"

Worth smirked, turning to show Conrad his arm. Blood had began to drip down it again, and the smell was too tantalizing to give up. He was climbing over the desk, pushing Worth back in his chair, surprising them both at the sheer force he used to get to the slow trickle of blood.

Conrad had stopped caring.

He put a hand over Worth's mouth as the man began to say something, and focused on the arm. It was pale, covered in scars, but all Conrad could see was the crooked line of red. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along the length of Worth's arm, stopping as he came to the cut. He considered for a brief moment just what he was doing, but Worth chose that moment to twist out of his hand and murmur, "Still can't bite?"

That was that. Without thinking about it a second longer, Conrad sunk his teeth into Worth's upper arm.

The man groaned, bit his lip and squirmed underneath Conrad. But the vampire was too distracted with his reward: warm, fresh blood. He sucked at the new wound, drawing the blood out faster. He could hear, _feel_, Worth's heartbeat quicken, hear his breath catch in his throat. For a split second, he was worried he was draining him.

But Worth reached up, curling his fingers through Conrad's hair and pushing his head down. That was all he needed; Conrad bit again, sucking harder.

As he ran his tongue over the wounds when the blood flow slowed, Worth arched into him. Maybe it was the gentleness, or maybe Worth was enjoying this more than he should. Whatever the case, Conrad pushed against him, smirking. Worth was under him – and _fuck_, were they really both hard? But most importantly, Worth was looking up at him, hand still on the back of his head, eyes sharp but softened, and no smirk in place.

"Too much for you?" Conrad teased, letting a hand settle on the man's chest. His heartbeat was quick, and as Conrad licked his lips, he could taste what he had been trying to ignore: Worth was _fucking aroused_. "Or not enough?" he guessed, most likely correctly based on Worth's reaction.

"Fuck you," Worth snapped, pulling slightly at his hair. He tilted his head to the side, showing the soft pale flesh of his neck. "Either bite me again or get the fuck off."

Conrad was more than happy to oblige. He leaned forward and without a second thought dug his fangs – _fang_ – into Worth's jugular.

"F-fuck," the man managed, trying to twist out of it as though it hurt more than he expected. But Conrad pressed himself against the other, pushing him down, sucking at this fresh, faster flow of blood. It was almost too much for him; blood dribbled down his chin as he fought to swallow it fast enough. Worth moaned under him, but in pain or pleasure, Conrad couldn't be sure. He could taste it now, the arousal, the hormones. It was sweet, but knowing what it meant sickened him. He pulled away.

"You're getting off on this shit, aren't you?" Conrad asked, wiping his chin, smearing the trail of blood.

"Last I checked, so were you," Worth retorted, pressing against him, making both of their erections painfully obvious.

"It's- it's my first real- shut up," Conrad snapped, ignoring the little "mm" he had murmured moments before. "I am not getting off on _you_, it's the blood, the-the taste."

Worth laughed. "I taste that good, do I?"

"That's not what I meant!" Conrad's eyes were drawn to the bloody mess of Worth's neck, and it was a wonder the man was still conscious and coherent. He looked at Worth's face to realize that, despite the confident smirk, the man's eyes were beginning to droop.

Worth grabbed at his hair a little, pushing his head down. "Keep drinking. You ain't done yet."

"I'm going to kill you if I keep going," Conrad responded, a little startled to feel that the man's heartbeat was now slower than it had been.

"I'll die happy. Drink." He pushed down on his head again.

"I'm not killing you!" Conrad pushed back against the hand on his head, sitting up to face Worth eye to eye. "I don't care what a prick you are, Hanna still needs you around."

"Fuck Hanna!" Worth snapped, tugging at Conrad's hair. "Y' can't leave me fucking _hanging_ like this."

"Do you mean this?" Conrad raised a hand to his neck; "Or this?" He let his hand drop until it was just resting on the waistband of Worth's pants.

Worth smirked, and his hands moved down to Conrad's pants. "Then we share a problem." Without warning, he started undoing the button.

"H-hey, whoa!" Conrad nearly jetted out of the chair, but Worth held him in place. "What the _fuck_?" he demanded, trying to wriggle out of the blonde's grip. Worth held firm, tugging the pants down around Conrad's erection.

"Shut up. Y' won't be complaining in a minute." Ignoring Conrad's continued sputtering of denial (though, it should be noted, he didn't particularly try to move off of Worth's lap), Worth reached up to his neck, covering his hand in blood, and wrapped the hand around Conrad's cock.

The vampire gasped, as though this surprised him. But when Worth started up a steady rhythm, Conrad bit his lip, trying his hardest not to enjoy this.

Lost in his little world of bliss, sucking at his lips for last traces of blood, Conrad missed Worth slipping a bloodied hand down his own pants to bring himself closer to climax.

"Drink," Worth growled after a minute or so of silence (save for Conrad's little noises of pleasure). Apparently, having a hand around Conrad's dick meant that he could make him do whatever he wanted, for without hesitation, Conrad lowered his head to suck at the open wound on Worth's neck.

It was delicious. Conrad couldn't help himself, bringing his hands up, one curling into Worth's hair, the other resting on his jaw. It was sweet, smoky, and so very good that it was mere seconds before he came, arching into the other man.

It was a moment or two before he calmed down, and an additional minute before he realized both of Worth's hands had stopped and the doctor was beginning to slump over in the chair.

"Fuck," Conrad cursed softly, euphoria gone. "Fucking- Worth!"

The blonde murmured something, swatting the vampire's hands away. "Get off."

Conrad obliged, tugging his boxers and pants up. To his surprise, Worth heaved himself up and trudged into the next room. Conrad hesitated, but finally followed.

This was apparently some form of operating room, Conrad guessed, looking around at the equipment that lined the walls. Worth was seated on the operating table, fumbling with an IV needle and a packet of blood.

"Need a fuckin' transfusion," he mumbled in Conrad's general direction. "Fuckin' fag 'nd yer fuckin' vampirism."

Conrad managed a weak sort of smile, calmer now that he realized Worth was okay – or at least, was going to be. "Just don't be an idiot next time," he snapped, glad Worth couldn't see the grin.

Because despite what he tried to tell himself, there would be a next time.


End file.
